He strode into the room with the confidence of a man who knew he would be welcomed anywhere. His hair, which had been wet and plastered to his face when he’d been ill, was now carefully styled, parted on one side and then pushed forward with a soft wave that had to have been fabricated somehow, since his hair had been bone straight when wet.
He had nothing of the pretty handsomeness of Vincent Howard, nor all of his height, but he had the kind of presence that didn’t need it. Something about the way he calmly walked into the room with his shoulders back and his jaw cocked just slightly to one side gave him the air of someone who was to be noticed and listened to. The scar that cut through his eyebrow only added to his allure.
“Pardon us,” Lieutenant Davis said with a bow to both me and Hattie. “We need to greet an old friend.”
The movement of our companions caught my former patient’s eye. His mouth turned up, shifting all of the hard lines of his face into a healthy and, quite frankly, dashing smile. He looked so much better, so much more alive, I never would have guessed he’d been on his deathbed only a few days ago.
But for heaven’s sake, this was going to complicate things.
I held my breath, commanding my heart to cease its erratic beating just as his eyes slid to mine.
His recognition was instantaneous.
The confident comportment that had followed him into the room wavered, his eyebrows furrowed. He blinked slowly as if with the hope that when he opened them again, a different sight would meet his eyes.
He was not so fortunate, for I still stood there, no matter how much we both might wish it otherwise.
His eyes moved to Hattie and he started again, this time glancing back and forth between us. And then Papa was suddenly there, shaking his hand and slapping him on the shoulder.
I swallowed hard and tightened my grip on Hattie.
The man that I’d cared for overnight—the man I’d begged God to spare—the man who’d confused me for someone else and kissed me—the man I’d counted onneverseeing again in my lifetime—was Captain John Calder. How many times had I heard his name in the past several years? I’d heard about every promotion. I’d even heard about every setback, like when he’d been called back to the army only a few days after being released on half-pay. Papa had blasted Old Boney for causing problems again and preventing him from coming for a visit.
Captain Calder had impressed my father so much during the disastrous Walcheren campaign, Papa had continued to champion him even after he retired. Captain Calder’s love of Derbyshire was the reason Papa bought this estate five yearsago. He’d told Papa when the estate had come for sale. It had been owned by a Welsh family who immigrated during Queen Anne’s reign, but they’d run out of heirs. Papa visited, fell in love with the sprawling grounds and the library and paid for it without any other considerations. I had ridden past Captain Calder’s enchantingly wild and forsaken home, for heaven's sake. How could this have happened?
Hattie put a hand over my own, and I jumped. “Are you well?” she asked.
I shook my head slightly before catching myself. “Yes,” I answered, with a quick breath. “Of course I am.”
“Do you know Captain Calder?” she asked, tipping her head toward him.
I shook my head this time. “No.”
“Are you certain? The two of you…”
“I don’t know him. At least, I should say I know of him, but I’ve never been introduced to him. Papa has spoken of him often.”
“I was introduced to him years ago.” Hattie’s voice held a smile. I whipped my head around to look at her, but her gaze was fixed on the captain. Very fixed. As if she were trying to memorize the size and shape of the man. Did she know he was practically engaged to someone? Shouldn’t Papa have known that? Why had we wasted a spot in this house party on a man whose heart was already claimed? We’d invited all the men here after extensive research. How had one man so utterly unavailable slipped through the cracks?
“You were?” I asked, trying to keep my voice only mildly interested.
She nodded. “It was years ago and he wasn’t a captain then. It is good to see him doing so well.”
“Papa is quite enamored by him.” How many times had I heard the story of his organized retreat in the night that hadsaved hundreds of men? Or the way he was relentless about the worth of each soldier? Too many times.
“Is he?” Hattie’s smile deepened, bringing out those double dimples of hers that would probably gain her a husband before anything else. “That makes me very happy.”
I eyed the captain. His distress about seeing me seemed to be forgotten now. He was smiling and talking with Papa, Lieutenant Davis, and Brookhouse as if I weren’t even in the room.
Mama interrupted them. She’d previously arranged that I would go to dinner with Captain Calder, and since he had arrived later than other guests, she and Papa led him toward me for the inevitable introduction.
Our eyes met and held while he and my parents strode purposely across the room. To call his gaze intense would have been a massive understatement. I barely knew the man and he knew me even less, considering he had been delirious or unconscious for most of our time together, but his stare was a simple matter to read.
We. Did. Not. Know. Each. Other.
Hattie bumped my hip softly and I managed to pull my eyes away from him. If we were going to pretend this was our first introduction, we had better stop looking at each other as if we were the only two people in the room.
I smiled at Papa, glanced about the room and then dared another look at Captain Calder again. He must have realized the same thing I had, for he was no longer looking at me, his eyes now focused on Hattie.
